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Was it that easy to see? Neona steeled her nerves so she wouldn’t cry. “Yes. I lost my twin sister three weeks ago. And she lost her son seven years ago. It was a terrible blow to her, and she never truly recovered. The boy was brought here . . .”
“Ah.” The monk nodded. “You speak of Norjee.”
His name was Norjee. In spite of her best effort, Neona’s eyes still filled with tears. “Is he all right? May I see him?”
“Of course.” The elderly monk gestured to the buildings on the right. “Come this way.” Halfway to the buildings, he paused to speak to the second monk, who still stood on the temple steps. “Will you bring us tea and the child Norjee?”
The second monk bowed, then descended the steps.
The first monk led them to the first door of the buildings, left his slides on the first step, then ascended a second step to open the door.
Neona removed her slippers. Zoltan, who was watching everything, kicked off his shoes and followed her inside.
It was a small room with a pallet rolled up and stashed against the wall next to a bookcase holding old scrolls. In the center was a short table. The monk sat cross-legged behind the table and motioned for them to join him.
After they sat, the monk took a deep breath. “Am I to understand that the boy’s mother did not wish to give him to our care?”
Neona shook her head. “It was our mother who brought the baby here.”
The monk glanced at Zoltan. “Is this man the boy’s father?”
“No.” Neona took Zoltan’s hand in hers. “He is my betrothed. When I told him I wanted to find my sister’s son and raise him as my own, he agreed to help me.”
The monk nodded approvingly.
The second monk entered with a tray containing a teapot and three small cups. He set the tray on the table. “I will bring the boy now.” He bowed and left.
The elderly monk poured three cups of tea. “I will not lie to you. Raising Norjee has been . . . a bit of a challenge.” He smiled. “There are only a dozen of us brothers here, and there are times when Norjee seems to have more energy than all of us put together.”
Neona winced inwardly. “Has he been difficult?”
The monk gave her a sympathetic look. “Please do not misunderstand. We love the boy. And he loves us. But we are a group of old men. We spend our days working our small rice field or tending the animals. In our free time, we like to read, meditate, or pray. These are not interesting pastimes for a boy like Norjee, who is so full of life.”
“I see.” Neona drank some tea.
The monk took a sip. “He has been both a challenge and a blessing. A challenge, for we have trouble convincing him to do his chores. But a blessing, for he sees the world as a wondrous place, as if every small event is a miracle to behold, and we have treasured those moments. He is a joy to us.” The monk sighed. “A joy we do not know how to control. Indeed, it seemed wrong to even attempt it. For he is a child with a special gift.”
Neona’s heart stilled. “What kind of gift?”
“He can communicate with the birds of the air.”
She inhaled sharply. He’d inherited Minerva’s gift! He’d be able to communicate with the dragons.
“Even when he was a baby, birds would come to his windowsill and chirp,” the monk continued. “It wasn’t until he was older and could talk to us that we understood what was happening. He was only three years old the first time he tried to run away. He claimed the birds were free to fly away, and he should be like them. We had a terrible time convincing him to stay here. When it was time to do his chores, he’d run off to spend the afternoon talking to a family of eagles. The mother eagle would ask him about his parents, and then he would return to question us. Why was he not living with a mother and father like the baby eagles?”
The door opened, and the second monk announced, “He’s not in his room. We cannot find him in the compound.”
Neona jumped to her feet. “He’s run away?”
“Do not worry.” The first monk stood slowly. “Norjee does this at least once a week. He will come back when he’s hungry.”
“He’s wandering the forest by himself?” Neona asked. “He’s only seven years old!”
Zoltan stood and whispered, “What’s wrong?”
“He’s in the forest somewhere,” she replied in English.
“He is never alone,” the monk assured her. “Not when he can talk to the birds. Come. We will call him.”
They hurried to the gate, and the monk rang the bell.
She looked around. Beyond the rice field, the woods appeared ominously dark. “I don’t like this. There are wolves, bears, and wildcats.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Zoltan told her.
The clanging of the bell brought more monks to the gate. When they learned Norjee was missing, they returned to the temple to pray.
After a few agonizing minutes, Neona spotted movement at the edge of the forest.
“That’s him.” Zoltan pointed.
Soon she could see him in the moonlight. A family of foxes was leading him back, while several small birds circled overhead. Every now and then, a bird would dive down to peck at a fox’s head, and the furry red creature would jump and hiss. The boy laughed as he skipped along beside them.
Neona turned to Zoltan. “Did you contact the foxes?”
He nodded, smiling.
The monk stepped forward. “Norjee, you left again without permission.”
The boy bowed. “I am sorry, Venerable Father. The birds were calling to me.” His gaze landed on Neona and Zoltan, and his eyes widened.
Neona blinked away tears. He looked so much like her sister. And he had her golden eyes.
The monk motioned to her. “She has come for you, Norjee.”
The boy approached her slowly, a hopeful look on his face. “Are you . . . ?”
It made her heart ache to disappoint him. “I’m your aunt. Your mother was my twin sister.”
His chin trembled. “Was?”
“She passed away.” A tear rolled down Neona’s cheek. “But she always loved you.”
“I-I always wondered.” Norjee sniffed. “The eagle mama told me I had to have a mother and father. She says I must have fallen out of the nest.”
Neona smiled through her tears. “I’m afraid you did. But I’d like to take you back.” She hunched down. “If you’ll accept me, I would be honored to be your mother.”
He ran toward her and threw his arms around her neck. She held him tight as more tears flowed. I’ll be a good mother to him, Minerva, I promise.
Norjee glanced up at Zoltan. “Will he be my papa?”
“Yes.” Neona brushed the boy’s long hair back from his brow. “He doesn’t know Tibetan, so it will be a while before you can talk to each other. But he can talk to animals. He’s the one who sent the foxes after you.”
Norjee’s eyes lit up and he grinned. “That’s great!”
Zoltan smiled and said in English, “I guess I’ve been accepted.” He leaned over and tousled the boy’s hair.
“We will have his belongings packed for you,” the monk said.
Neona stood. “I’m afraid it’s not safe for us to take him tonight. Our valley may come under attack soon.”
The monk nodded. “We know the evil ones are coming. We’ve been praying that the boy would be delivered from danger. You must take Norjee tonight.”
“But—”
The monk held up a hand to stop her. “Our brother’s visions are never wrong. The evil is coming here. I will try to convince my brothers to evacuate tomorrow.”
The second monk arrived with a canvas bag. With a bow, he handed it to Neona.
“What’s happening?” Zoltan asked.
“They want us to take Norjee tonight.” She cast a worried look at the boy. “I guess he would be safe with the young ones in the cave.”
“All right. I’ll teleport him to Beyul-La, then come right back for you.” Zoltan reached for Norjee, but the boy slipped past him and ran toward the monks.
With tears in their eyes, they held him tight, then nudged him toward Zoltan. “Peace be with you, Norjee.”
“And you, Venerable Fathers,” he whispered.
